


Acclimation

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [119]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24686188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: “Thank you,” Jared manages, which sounds weak, but he means it. A lot.
Relationships: OMC/OMC
Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [119]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/849798
Comments: 45
Kudos: 363





	Acclimation

Jared’s nervous, walking into practice. It feels like the first day of school, but more — maybe the first day of school after you transfer. To a school of your enemies.

This metaphor’s breaking down. The point is Jared doesn’t know anyone there, besides Markson, who he just met, except through games where they were on opposing sides. It’s stressful.

Elaine drove him in, because they haven’t added him to Bryce’s car insurance yet, insisted on him loading all his bags into her car so she could take them, said she just happened to need to be downtown today, so she’d pick him up after. Jared doesn’t ask what she needs to be downtown for, because he suspects the answer is ‘so I can drive you home’ but she’d make an excuse, so. He’s not complaining. He’d feel uncomfortable if it was just about anyone else, but Elaine’s like Bryce — doing nice shit genuinely seems to make them happy.

“Hey!” Markson says the second Jared walks into the room, and introduces Jared to everyone, which makes Jared grateful he took him up on that ride from the airport. There’s a blur of names, some he knows already, some he doesn’t, and Kurmazov’s the last guy he’s introduced to.

“Nice to meet you,” Jared says. 

“You too,” Kurmazov says, gives him a very firm, exuberant handshake. Like, Jared might have to ice his hand later exuberant. “The curse is over.”

They have got to stop talking about curses. Jared doesn’t even _believe_ in curses and it’s making him edgy.

Jared’s stall ends up being besides Kurmazov’s, so Jared’s hoping pretty hard that Raf — or Oleg Kurmazov through Raf — and Markson were kind of exaggerating.

“Um,” Jared says, halfway through getting dressed. His pads are still blue, but a slightly different blue than they were in Edmonton, which is more surreal than if they were another colour entirely. “Kurmazov? Do you have stick tape?” Jared thought he had everything packed, but apparently stick tape wasn’t one of those things.

“We do not do this last names bullshit here,” Kurmazov says sternly, before tossing him a roll. “Dmitry. I don’t care if you pronounce it wrong, everyone does.”

“I don’t,” Markson protests.

“You do too, Gabriel,” Dmitry says.

Markson makes a face, like Dmitry’s pronouncing his name wrong.

“Gabe,” he says to Jared. “Please. No one calls me Gabriel.”

“Stephen does,” Dmitry says.

“Stephen’s allowed,” Gabe says. “And my parents. And that’s it.”

“Gabriel,” Dmitry says, twisting its length out until it’s a croon, Gabe elbowing him in the side until he breaks off to laugh.

Jared shifts from foot to foot, definitely feeling like a linemate third wheel, but it gets a bit better when practice gets started. Just a bit. Dmitry spends his time between drills skating around, needling teammates — Jared might have gotten worse than Jacobi here, he totally understands the message Raf imparted from Dmitry’s brother, because Dmitry acts more like an over-excited rookie trying to get a rise out of the vets than a vet himself. He says something about his son in passing and Jared has a full out of body experience that the man — man-child — has children. 

“He has a kid?” Jared asks Gabe, some of the horror leaking into his voice.

“Two,” Gabe says, then laughs at whatever Jared’s face does. “I know.”

 _Two_. 

Dmitry does take the drills seriously, if nothing else, laser sharp focus, and it always takes a little while for a line to click if they’ve never played together before, but they do surprisingly well for a first practice. Maybe it’s because Gabe and Dmitry have played together for years, are able to anticipate one another well enough to cover any deficiencies between Gabe and Jared, Jared and Dmitry, but Gabe’s style is a lot like Chaz’s, and once Jared notices that, he can tap into that experience pretty quickly.

Jared gets a clap on the back from his new coach, a “Looking great,” and he’s feeling pretty great, right up until he’s back in street clothes and scheduled to meet Foster. Then it’s mostly just dread.

Jared’s early, and he paces outside, practicing the best way to break it to his GM that not only is he married to a guy, but it’s a player, and also that player happens to be the MVP of their opponent, though there really isn’t a good way. He runs through the conversation — best case scenario, worst case scenario, most likely scenario, and then, one exact minute early, he goes into the office, gets a cheerful ‘Brian’s waiting for you’, from what must be the admin, who tells him where to go, which is, of course, the office at the very end of the hall. The more important you are, the further people have to walk to see you.

“Come on in,” Foster calls, and Jared takes one last fortifying gulp of air before he opens the door to Foster’s office.

“Hey, Jared, take a seat,” Foster says. “Settling in okay?”

“So far so good,” Jared says, sitting down across from him.

“Checked in on practice,” Foster says. “Your line looked good out there. Gabe and Dmitry taking care of you?”

“Sure,” Jared says.

A lot of the meeting would feel pretty routine if Jared wasn’t trying to pick a good time to tell Foster. Foster tells him what his expectations are, both for Jared’s line, and Jared specifically on that line, why he traded for him: tells him he liked seeing his defensive play, the way he let Julius streak up, would like to see that sort of thing, use their line as a shutdown one, with Kurmazov providing the key offence, and him and Markson on more of a swivel role, pushing offensively but also ready to shut down the opposition if necessary. It’s all reasonable, makes sense for Jared’s play style, and what he knows of Gabe and Dmitry’s.

Foster repeats his original insistence that if Jared needs anything he just has to ask, that the team and the front office are there for him, and he knows how hard it is to come to a city where you don’t know anyone.

“I’ve got family in town,” Jared says. “Thankfully.”

“That’s good,” Foster says. “Great. It always feels different when you’ve got people already there, huh? Makes a trade a hell of a lot easier.”

“Yeah,” Jared says. Now, he guesses, is as good a time as any. “I’m staying with family, actually. With my mother-in-law.”

“Brave man,” Foster laughs.

“I’m married,” Jared says.

“Congratulations?” Foster says, seeming a bit bemused, which is an understandable reaction, considering that was kind of implied in the ‘mother-in-law’ thing, so it sounds like Jared’s just blurting out obvious shit.

“To a guy,” Jared says.

“Ah,” Foster says, and Jared waits, biting the inside of his cheek as he carefully watches Foster’s face. “If you’re worried about telling the team, you should know it’s a really good bunch of guys. Inclusive. They’re not going to have a problem with it. Gabe’s our YCP rep if you wanted to talk to him.”

“That’s—” Jared says. Not what he expected Foster to say, and a whole lot better than what he got from Deslauriers, but also Foster hasn’t gotten the bombshell Deslauriers did, so it’s too early to be relieved. “He’s a hockey player.”

“NHLer?” Foster asks.

“Yeah,” Jared says.

“Okay,” Foster says, leaning back in his chair. “Okay. Well. That’s a little different.”

Jared’s not sure how his hands are both freezing cold and sweaty at the same time.

“Not a problem!” Foster says. “You’ve of course — it’s not a problem, okay Jared? You’ve got the right to be married to who you want to be married to.”

“Right,” Jared says. It’s weird how someone stating an actual statement of fact from like, a moral standpoint, and also like, a Canadian law one, is the biggest relief in the world. “Thank you.”

“Please tell me you’re not like doing a Riley-Lapointe, married to a rival thing though,” Foster says.

“Um?” Jared says.

“Okay!” Foster says. “Okay. I. That’s fine!”

It’s also weirdly a relief to see Foster’s apparently panicking as much as Jared is. 

“Sorry?” Jared says weakly.

“You’re an Alberta boy, right Jared?” Foster says.

“Yes sir,” Jared says.

“Your husband’s back in Alberta?” Foster asks.

“Yes sir,” Jared says.

“I’m not going to ask who it is,” Foster says. “Because it’s not any of my business. If you want to tell me, you’re of course welcome to tell me, but you don’t have to.”

“Okay, sir,” Jared says. 

“Stop calling me sir,” Foster says. “I’m maybe ten years older than you.”

“Sorry,” Jared says. He’s got to be in his early forties at least, but Jared’s not going to argue with the man who’s being crazy good about this, that’s a stupid idea.

“You play as hard against him as you do anyone else, right?” Foster asks.

“Yeah,” Jared says. “Of course.”

“Good,” Foster says. “Maybe have a chat with Gabe? If there’s anything you’re concerned about, or — he’s good people, he’ll listen.”

“Sure, maybe,” Jared says. 

“Have I told you how happy we are to have you on the roster?” Brian says, and Jared has the sudden urge to hug him, but he’s pretty damn positive hugging your GM is not appropriate. Maybe with an exception if you’ve just won the Stanley Cup, but even then it probably depends on the GM. Foster seems like the kind of GM who’d be a Post-Cup hugger. Who knows, maybe Jared will find out this year. He genuinely can’t believe that in the space of a few days he’s gone from Deslauriers and a team that considers it a terrific season if they get the top draft pick, and Foster and a team that can genuinely contend.

“Thank you,” Jared manages, which sounds weak, but he means it. A lot.

When he walks out of Foster’s office he feels a little lightheaded, fairly incredulous, and a lot relieved. It almost feels like a trap, like Foster was _too_ good about it, like Greg’s about to call and say ‘Foster’s sent you to Utica’. But Jared doesn’t think anyone’s that good an actor, and Foster seemed genuine. Flustered as hell, and who could blame him, but genuine.

Jared hasn’t checked his phone since before practice, and there’s an almost dizzying amount of texts from what feels like every person he knows. He texts Elaine to let her know he’s free, her replying almost immediately she’s less than ten minutes away — Jared suspects that’s not a coincidence — and responds to texts while he waits. First Bryce’s anxious _howdd it go?????_ , letting him know it went fine and that he’ll call him when he gets home, because Bryce is going to want the whole play-by-play, and Elaine’s not his like, chauffeur — it’s rude as hell to be on the phone while she drives him, even if it’s her son on the other end. Then quick replies to Chaz and Raf and Grace and Ash, texts to his parents that it went well and he’d call them tonight, and a slightly more involved text to an uncharacteristic stream of four different texts he’s gotten from Julius. 

Elaine’s pulling up as Jared’s finishing up letting Julius know that practice went okay, his linemates seem fine but are no Hallas, he is indeed staying at Elaine’s, and yeah, fuck Deslauriers. 

“How’d your meeting go?” Elaine asks as Jared slides into the passenger seat, and telling her about Foster’s panicky acceptance, and practice, and how his teammates seem takes them right back home, where, unsettlingly, an old mattress is sitting in the living room.

“I redecorated your room a little today,” Elaine says. “Bryce told me which mattress you guys like and they delivered it right away, it was terrific, and I’ve put Bryce’s spare clothes in storage, so there’s space in the closet and the dresser for your things, and in the bathroom too — I got a shower caddy, and the medicine cabinet’s —”

She does this small, self-conscious laugh, the exact same one Bryce does when he realises he’s rambling, which he must have gotten from her. The laugh, but also the rambling. Jared finds it as endearing from Elaine as he does with Bryce.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Jared says. “I mean, it’s really nice of you, but I didn’t need a whole new mattress.” 

“I want you to be comfortable here,” Elaine says. “Besides, I think we got the old one when Bear had a growth spurt at the start of high school, it’s got to be at least ten years old by now. You needed something more supportive.”

“Thank you,” Jared says, and for the second time today, it doesn’t feel even remotely adequate. 

“You should call Bryce,” Elaine says. “He keeps texting me asking how your meeting went. Chinese leftovers okay for dinner? If you’d like something else, just let me know and I can—”

“That’s perfect,” Jared says, and goes to Bryce’s room — well, his right now — to call. His suitcases are there, along with the new mattress, bed already made. She’s taken the Canucks stuff out too, which he appreciates, because it was funny when he was visiting with Bryce, giving him shit about it, but feels faintly weird now that’s playing for them. 

Bryce picks up on the first ring. “How was—”

“It went fine,” Jared says. “Your mom bought me a mattress.”

“Don’t worry, I paid for it,” Bryce says, which is actually a relief. It’s not a cheap mattress. “Figure it means nicer like, visits or something if we stay over, so it’s a good investment. And you can’t sleep on that one I had, it’s crap.”

“It was fine,” Jared protests.

“It’s like ten years old,” Bryce says. Jared wonders if Bryce and Elaine rehearsed the ‘override Jared’s protests’ together. “Need to play at your best, you know?”

He does. The Canucks aren’t the Oilers, and if Jared wants to stay in the roster, avoid getting sent halfway across the continent to Utica, there’s no slacking off here. He’s on the bubble. Okay, no, third line isn’t bubble, especially considering how many wingers are currently injured, but Jared’s going to have to play hard if he doesn’t want any of them to replace him when they get healthy. And now that he knows Elaine didn’t buy it, he’s less anxious about it. Bryce can spare a few grand. They both can.

“But the meeting,” Bryce says. “It actually went okay?” 

Jared gives him the full breakdown, Bryce sounding both a little incredulous at how well it went, and also jealous, which Jared can’t blame him for. Bryce is definitely on the shitty side of their hometown swap — bad management; bad teammates, with the obvious exception of Chaz; way worse in-laws. Not that Jared knows the Canucks at all, they could be just as bad as the Flames are with Bryce, or worse, but even if it’s premature, even if his meeting with Foster isn’t indicative of everything Jared’s experience with the Canucks is going to be like — Jared thinks he’s going to like it here.

“I really hope so,” Bryce says, the jealousy gone, just honest happiness that Jared’s happy, and that’s another way Jared definitely won the swap — he’s got Bryce on the other end. Bryce, who argues when Jared says that out loud, not about the management, or the team itself, once they agree on the Chaz exception, but hypes up Jared’s parents and Erin even though they both know Elaine’s the best. Gets a little huffy at the very idea that Jared’s the worse person to have on the other line. 

“Okay, we’re both equally awesome,” Jared says.

“You’re more awesome,” Bryce says huffily.

Jared definitely won this swap. He also knows better than to insist, in case Bryce gets mad at him for continuing to say Bryce is the best.

 _You’re the best_ , Jared texts him right after they hang up, hoping Bryce just takes that as an out of context compliment, but the angry faces Bryce texts back imply he knows exactly what Jared means.


End file.
